


Healing Time

by insanitys_cowgirl



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 11:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 10,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanitys_cowgirl/pseuds/insanitys_cowgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony winced as his chest heaved with the effort of breathing. Each breath sent a lightning bolt of fresh pain jolting through his body. What would happen if he just...stopped? No. Don't think about that. Just. Keep. Breathing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just Keep Breathing

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out._

_Breathe in._

_Don't feel the pain._

_Breathe out._

_The pain isn't there._

_Breathe in._

_The others will find you._

_Breathe out._

_Just keep breathing._

Tony wasn't sure anymore if he was speaking aloud or in his head. However, the scratching rawness of his throat told him that speaking aloud would have most likely been too much of a chore.

_Breathe in._

Tony winced as his chest heaved with the effort of breathing. Each breath sent a lightning bolt of fresh pain jolting through his body.

_Breathe out._

What would happen if he just...stopped?

_No._

_Don't think about that._

_Breathe in._

_You'll make it through this._

_Just. Keep. Breathing._


	2. I Can Find Him

"Tony!" Steve's frantic shout sent birds and small animals scurrying for shelter, and a few twittered back at him, annoyed.

"Hey, ASSHAT!" Hawkeye cried out.

"MAN OF IRON WHERE HAST THOU GONE?!" Thor bellowed, louder by himself than Steve and Clint put together. They were the only three left in the search party. Bruce, Natasha and Fury had already gone back to base to get some rest. Steve knew Hawkeye and Thor would follow soon. They had, after all, been searching for Tony for close to forty-eight hours now. But Steve would be fine. He had slept for seventy years, for heaven's sake! His body could take this. He would search until his friend was found. No exceptions..

"Steve." A hand clasped the super solider's shoulder. "We need to go back. We need some sleep. _You_ need some sleep." Steve brushed Hawkeye's hand away.

"I slept for seventy years." He protested, pressing on into the woods.

"Captain, he is right. We all need to rest. Let us head back to base and start up the search again once we are rested." Thor agreed.

"No. You guys go. I'll stay." Steve insisted.

"Steve, it's almost dark." Hawkeye said.

"I have a flashlight."

"You at least need to eat, Captain." Thor tried.

"I'm not hungry right now."

"Good God, you're stubborn!" Clint exclaimed.

"I am." Steve agreed.

"You're going back to camp with us!" Hawkeye said.

"No, I'm not!" Steve whirled to face Hawkeye.

"We'll make you." Clint threatened. Steve's blue eyes narrowed and he shifted his body into a ready stance, sheild raised, fists balled.

"We will not." Thor stepped in.

"What?!" Hawkeye demanded.

"He has something he has to do. Such devotion is very admirable. I will not stand in his way, nor will you. Let us go back and join him again in the morning." Thor said, patting Hawkeye on the back and turning him to head back.

"But-" Clint started.

"No arguing." Thor interrupted.

"Thanks, Thor." Steve smiled.

"Good luck, Captain." Thor replied.

"Do you really think you can find him on your own?" Clint yelled over his shoulder, in one final attempt at convincing Steve to come back to camp with them.

"I can find him."


	3. Let's Get You Outta Here

"Just...keep...breathing..." The delirious mumur was so quiet that Steve almost didn't hear it above the morning sounds of the woods around him. But he just barely caught it. He waited and sure enough more words followed it, tired sounding and so slurred that Steve couldn't even understand what the person was saying. He made his way towards the sounds and finally found what he'd been looking for. Tony Stark lay against a tree, arc reactor glowing weakly and flickering now and then, face bruised, a bullet wound in his gut, scratched and beaten bare arms, torn clothes, and slightly mangled looking leg. God, he was a mess. But he was alive. Which was more than Steve had expected when the man had been attacked and thrown from S.H.E.I.L.D's helicarrier without the suit.

"Tony..." Steve said gently, placing a carefully light hand on the other man's shoulder. Tony jumped, and his pained brown eyes snapped open, searching Steve's face for a moment before recognition dawned in them.

"...Capsicle...?" Tony breathed, his voice low and raspy. It was almost unrecognizable, but Steve's heart still danced happily at this sign of life.

"Yeah, it's me." Steve's hand moved carefully to trail fingers over Tony's face, cupping the man's cheek gently. Tony's eyelids fluttered tiredly, and he let his head sag against the Captain's hand. He was starting to fade out. After almost two and a half days of waiting and hurting and fighting to stay conscious, he just couldn't do it any more. But it was OK, because he'd been found.

Tony forced himself to stay awake just a little longer, and looked the good Captain over. Fuck, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? Tony thought to himself, taking in Steve's disheveled appearance. His patriotic suit was dirty and torn in a few places, mask thrown back, face covered in dirt too, a cut adorned his lower lip, his blond hair was unwashed as well and wild as hell, and his baby blues were shining with a mixture of worry, compassion, joy, and open affection. And Tony had to admit to himself, that this was the most beautiful sight he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Let's get you outta, here, kay?" Steve asked, fighting down the suddenly overpowering urge to kiss his friend. To just press his lips against Tony's and assure himself that this was real, and Tony was alive and well(sort of). And, little did he know, Tony wanted the same thing. Hell, if he'd had the energy, the brunette would have done it already.

Steve picked Tony up with the utmost care, one arm slipping around the man's slumping shoulders, the other beneath his knees. He stood slowly, shifting Tony gently against his chest, cradling him close, and Tony let his head sag against Steve's shoulder.

"...no...hos-hospitals." Tony spoke up suddenly.

"Alright, I can do that." Steve assured him, making his way through the forest and back towards camp.

"And...no-no recovery room either." Tony pressed.

"Wha- I'll see what I can do about that one, Tony. I guess Bruce can patch you up, but Fury won't like it." Steve said. Fuck Nick Fury. Tony thought. There was no way he was putting up with a hospital or the damn recovery room. And that was final.


	4. What's The Damage?

"Ugh" Tony groaned in pain as he woke up. Everything hurt. And everything was cold. Except for one hand. How does that work? Tony curiously looked down at the hand, and found another clasping it. He traced the hand up its arm to its owner, and smiled fondly. Steve was sleeping (not surprising considering it was 2am), hand wrapped warmly around Tony's own, and his face resting on the side of Tony's bed. Tony attempted to move and hissed again in pain.

"Lay still, Mr. Stark." A quiet voice said from across the room. Tony looked up, eyes finding a kind looking nurse standing in the doorway, clutching a couple of blankets.

"What's the damage?" Tony asked.

"Well, for one, your leg is broken, so be careful not to move it too much. I'd thank my lucky stars I wasn't awake when they set it, if I were you. You have lots of bruises, several cuts, a total of over a hundred stitches, and that machine in your chest needed work. Mr. Banner took care of that, though. The most concerning thing is the bullet wound in your gut. You're lucky as hell it passed all the way through, or you wouldn't b here. You almost bled to death, and we've had to give you several pints of blood. I don't know how the bullet managed to only graze your vitals on it's way through, but it's still going to need probably a couple of months to heal properly. So you're supposed to take it easy for at least the next two months." The nurse said, covering Tony carefully with one of the blankets. "And that means, according to Mr. Banner and Director Fury: no parties, no driving, no drinking, no inventing, no workshop, and _no Iron Man._ "

"Hmph." Said Tony, glaring at the nurse.

"I know. No fun. But you have Mr. Rogers here. I'm sure he'll look after you." The nurse said quietly, gently draping another of the blankets over Steve. "He's really taken care of you the past few days. He's hardly slept at all and he hasn't eaten much since you were attacked. You're lucky to have a friend like him." Tony looked at Steve and shook his head sadly.

"You know, you nearly died. You've been out for days and it's been touch and go the whole time. You barely managed to fight off the fever. He's been worried sick. Only left when we forced him to, and he stood right outside the whole time. And as soon as we said OK he was right back at your bedside. I think he nursed you more than we did." The nurse checked Tony's IVs. "I need to clean the stiches in your gut. They're infected." Despite the soft touch the nurse had as she dabbed at his stiches with a cotton swab dipped in something cold and strong smelling, Tony gasped and clenched the bedsheets between his fingers. She finished as quickly as she could and Tony slowly let himself relax into the bed.

"Hey." He suddenly remembered something. "I thought I said no recovery rooms!" The nurse laughed.

"Mr. Rogers is working on it. He has a meeting with Director Fury tomorrow, and considering how adamantly he's been arguing for you, I expect the Director can't say 'No.' forever. I'd say you'll be going home tomorrow."

"Good." Tony huffed quietly, snuggling happily into the blanket, and turning slightly onto his side to face Steve, and as he drifted off he felt the large hand holding his tighten slightly.


	5. Let's Rethink This, Huh?

_"Hey, there, Iron Man." A thickly accented voice snarled._

_"Uh, yes? How can I help you?" Tony asked, smiling charismatically at the newcomer. And then he saw the gun._

_"You can't." The man answered, cocking the weapon. Tony stood up quickly, holding his hands up._

_"Whoa! Let's rethink this, huh?" Tony asked frantically, stepping back and reaching out for the case holding his suit._

_The gun went off._

_Tony crumpled forwards, clutching his gut in shock, pain rippling through him. 'Big man in a suit of armor, take that away, what are you?' Steve's voice mocked him from inside his own mind. Yeah, without the suit, apparently he wasn't much. Tony tried to get up, hand scrabbling on his desk for balance, legs refusing to support him._

_"I don't have much time left before I'm noticed, Mr. Stark." The unnamed man said, his voice and hands almost trembling. "So, why don't you tell me what the FUCK you're up to?!" Another shot rang out and a window shattered, wind whipping wildly through the room. Tony was lifted onto his feet and walked over to the open window. Looking down from the airship, Tony panicked inwardly. He scratched and clawed at the hand holding him._

_"Tell me, damn it!" The man shrieked, slamming Tony backwards against what was left of the window frame._

_"What the hell are you talking about, I don't even know you." Tony exclaimed, struggling as best as he could in his captor's hold. Suddenly the ships alarms went off and the man flinched, looking over his shoulder with wild eyes._

_"What the hell was that?" He demanded, looking around suspiciously._

_"That alarm says the Avengers are needed. If I don't go, they'll notice, so how about you let me go, huh?" Tony tried._

_"No, I'm going to end this now."_

_"End what?!" Tony kicked out at the man holding his as best he could._

_"THIS, you moron, you KNOW what I'm talking about! You're a cruel, black-hearted creep, and I never want to see your face again. I have to do this. I have to. So I'll be safe. So you won't kill me..." The man appeared to be talking more to himself than Tony._

_"Kill you...what are..." Tony wriggled frantically against the broken window frame._

_"SHUT UP!"_

_"STEVE!" Tony called out, swallowing his massive pride with what he swore was an audible gulp._

_"I SAID SHUT UP!" With that, Tony was flung sideways through the window, window frame and glass breaking beneath his weight._

_Tony watched the airship grow smaller in the distance as he neared the ground and braced himself for impact…_

"Whoa!" Tony gasped, jackknifing up into a half-sitting position and yelping in pain. He fell back onto the bed, tense and gasping slightly from the pain and clenching his fists as he rode it out. Finally the pain faded to a simple, dull ache, and his body relaxed back into the bed.

"Good morning, Mr. Stark." Tony groaned quietly to himself as another nurse showed up. "Don't groan at me," She said firmly. "I have your pain meds." Tony perked up for her immediately. And she smiled, bemused.

"Where's the Cap?" Tony asked, realizing the spot beside his bed was empty.

"He's meeting with Director Fury." The nurse answered, handing him a tray filled with bland looking food. Tony glared at it. "Eat." The nurse commanded, leaving Tony to himself and the disgusting looking tray of food. He pushed it away. No matter how his stomach was rumbling at him, he wasn't eating it. Hell, he wasn't sure it was even edible.

Tony laid back down and decided to wait for Steve to come take him home. Even if it meant breaking out of here. Tony could deal with that.


	6. Carry Me?

"Tony! You're awake!" Steve exclaimed happily, suddenly appearing in the doorway.

"Yup. Practically good as new." Tony said with a smile.

"Mmmhmmm." Steve said, echoing Tony's smile.

"So, can I go home?" Tony asked.

"Fury says yes, on one condition." Steve answered.

"And what would that be?"

"Somebody has to stay with you for the next couple months." Steve said.

"Hmm, that's fine with me. Having you around won't be so bad." Tony said.

"And what makes you think I'll agree to stay with you for a month?" Steve demanded.

"What you won't do it? Even if I say please?" Tony insisted. " _Please_ Steve."

"Of course I will, Tony." Steve sighed. "You know I will."

"Then why'd you argue?!"

"Because just assuming like that is rude." Steve said.

"Yes, mom." Tony hissed. Steve huffed in annoyance.

"Well, anyway, feel any better today?"

"Yeah, but this hospital food is gonna be the death of me." Tony complained. "Can we stop for burgers on the way home?"

"I don't mind." Steve said.

"Good. When can we leave?" Just as Tony asked that, a nurse showed up with a wheel-chair. "No wheel-chairs!" Carefully the IVs were removed, and Tony was unhooked from his machines.

"It's either that, Mr. Stark, or a stretcher." The nurse informed him coldly.

"How about neither?" Tony suggested.

"Would you rather be carried?" Steve threatened.

"Maaaybeee…" Tony pondered the thought.

"Seriously? Are you serious right now?" Steve asked.

"Yup. The press'll have fun with this one!" Tony decided.

"I really don't think…" Steve began to protest.

"Carry me?" Tony interrupted, holding his arms out to Steve and putting on his best puppy dog face. And for whatever reason, Steve couldn't resist.

"Alright." Steve sighed, a blush tainting his cheeks slightly as he reached out for Tony. The nurse giggled as she watched Steve slide his arms under Tony and scoop him up as gently and tenderly as he could. It still hurt though and Tony let out a pained groan and ground his teeth as his wounded body was moved. Steve was incredibly cautious of the cast, and managed to cradle Tony in a way that managed to be only a little painful. Tony let out a breath, his body relaxing against Steve and slung his least bandaged arm around the soldier's neck with a cocky grin. Steve rolled his eyes.

Cameras clicked, Pepper gave them a look, and Tony nearly burst out laughing as Steve carried him out to the car. He was tempted to press a few soft kisses to his Captain's neck as they walked, but he figured if he made the man any more embarrassed, he might explode. Or, more likely, moving like that would rip out several stitches and land him a one-way ticket back to the hospital/recovery room/whatever. So he smiled for the confused and curious press, and settled for shifting himself slightly closer to Steve. Oh, he could see the headlines now.


	7. You're Getting Crotchety, Grandpa

"I can't believe you made me do that." Steve said, scowling angrily at the TV as some slutty reporter prattled on about the incident outside the hospital.

"What, it was amusing." Tony chuckled from the bed. Steve went back to hooking up IVs and machines. "This isn't much better than a hospital, you know." Tony accused.

"Well, I'm sorry I care enough about your health not to let you die." Steve grumbled, finishing up with the last of the tubes and wires.

"I think you need to get some sleep. Some _real_ sleep. And some food. You're getting crotchety, grandpa." Tony huffed.

"I'm sorry, Tony." Steve plopped down into a chair next to Tony's bed.

"Don't apologize, sleep." Tony commanded. "But give me the remote first." Tony stretched his fingers towards the TV remote. Steve handed it to him.

"Anything else you need?" Steve asked.

"A drink?" Steve handed Tony a glass of water, and Tony looked at it with distain. "This is not what I meant."

"No alcohol." Steve said firmly, crossing his arms and glaring down at Tony.

" _Fine._ Now go get some sleep so you can get back to entertaining me." Tony said.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"I'll be fine." Tony assured Steve.

"But what if you need something?" Steve asked.

"You'll be close by, I'm sure. Now. Go. Rest." Tony pointed at the door.

"I don't get a say in this, do I?" Steve asked, sending an amused smile Tony's way.

"Nope." Tony said.

"Alright. But don't hesitate to wake me up if you need anything."

"OK, now _go._ " Tony persisted, changing the channel on the TV. With one final, reluctant glance back at Tony, Steve left.


	8. Don't Scare Me Like That!

Steve woke up slowly, groggily. The couch he'd chosen to sleep on was plush and comfortable, and his body didn't want him to wake up just yet. But it had been a few hours, and he needed to check on Tony.

"Captain Rogers, I believe Mr. Stark's fever has returned." A calm automated voice informed a still very sleepy Steve.

"Gah!" The super soldier nearly jumped out of his skin. "J.A.R.V.I.S?" Steve asked.

"Of course, sir. Who else were you expecting?"

"Don't scare me like that!" Steve commanded, holding a hand over his pounding heart.

"I apologize Captain." The A.I said, sounding less than sorry. "And might I inform you that you sleep rather soundly? I have been trying to wake you for half an hour."

"Sorry." Steve yawned, rubbing the back of his head and padding into Tony's room. The brunette's breathing was shallow and he whined softly in his sleep as Steve placed a gentle hand on his forehead.

"Hey, J.A.R.V.I.S, can you help me find the kitchen. I need a large bowl."

"Certainly, Captain Rogers." The A.I carefully directed Steve to the kitchen and helped him locate a large, ceramic bowl that would work. Steve returned to Tony's room and slipped into the bathroom. He filled the bowl with water and searched around until he found a washcloth.

"The bastard that did this better pray I don't find him." Steve told Tony as he sat down beside him on the bed. "Because there'll be hell to pay if I do." Steve soaked the wash cloth and brushed it over Tony's forehead. The sleeping man sighed and leaned into the cool touch. Steve couldn't help but smile and reach his free hand out to cup Tony's cheek.

"Mmmm." Tony mumbled in his sleep, turning towards the touch as much as his injuries allowed and latching onto Steve's wrist with a surprisingly strong grip, holding his hand in place and using it as a pillow of sorts. Steve chuckled softly and continued to bathe Tony's sweaty forehead, tugging the blanket up to his chin. Tony sleepily nuzzled into Steve's palm with a sigh, and Steve was happy to see the tension and stress slowly fade from the sleeping man's body.


	9. Ill Advised

"Hello, Tony." The strawberry blonde said from the doorway, "Steve, how are you."

"Hey, Pep." Tony answered.

"Hello, ma'am." Steve said politely, looking up from where he was unhooking the machines from Tony's arm. "I'm doing well, thank you very much. And yourself?"

"I'm good, Steve, thanks." Pepper crossed the room to stand by Tony's bed. "So, what's going on?"

"Just taking Tony off the machines. He doesn't need them anymore." Steve said, neatly coiling wires and tubes on top of their respective machines. It had been roughly three weeks since Tony's fever had returned. And he was doing much better. His bruises were yellowing or gone, and he no longer needed to be monitored by machines constantly. It wouldn't hurt, of course, but Tony insisted J.A.R.V.I.S could do it, and Steve just gave in.

"Can we have a minute, Steve?" Pepper asked with a smile in the captain's direction.

"Of course, Miss Potts." Steve smiled back. "I need to get these machines back and talk with director Fury anyway. Tony, I'll be back kind of late, but I'll keep my phone on, alright?"

"Yes, _mom_." Tony said, using his new favorite nickname for his friend. "You sure you know how to answer it?"

"Yes, Tony." Steve sighed with a glare, clearing the medical machines out and leaving Pepper and Tony to talk in private.

"So….." Tony said awkwardly, hands fidgeting in his lap.

"Why didn't you call me?" Pepper demanded, shooting Tony a stern look.

"I, well, Pep, I just didn't want you to worry. I was being looked after just fine and I wanted to wait at least until I was off those damn machines to call you."

"So you just disappeared on me, and let me worry for a _month_?!" Pepper was practically yelling now. "I didn't know if you were even alive! You could have at least called to tell me that."

"I, Pepper, I'm sorry." Tony looked at his girlfriend with pleading brown eyes.

"No. I just can't do this anymore, Tony." Pepper said, taking a deep, shuddering breath, turning her back to him. "I will continue to be the CEO of Stark Industries, but find someone else to wait on you, and care for you. Our relationship will be strictly professional from here on out."

"Pepper!" Tony exclaimed.

"My mind is made up." Pepper wiped the tears from her cheeks and turned to face Tony again. "May you have a swift recovery, Mr. Stark." She said curtly, turning on her heel and stalking out the door before she could turn around, tears falling freely now.

Tony stared in shock at her retreating form. His genius mind struggled to comprehend what had just happen. And finally his massive IQ managed to come up with one, simple sentence: _Pepper left me_. Tony choked on his emotions.

"J.A.R.V.I.S, I need a drink." Tony ordered the A.I.

"In your condition it is ill advised." J.A.R.V.I.S replied dryly.

"Fuck you, J.A.R.V.I.S." Tony hissed.

"Also ill advised, sir." The A.I said back, and Tony shot a glare at the ceiling.

"Fine, I'll get it myself." Tony said reaching for the pair of crutches Steve had brought home the other day. He wasn't meant to use them for a couple of weeks or better, but screw that.

"Also ill ad-" J.A.R.V.I.S began.

"Can it you overgrown iPhone!" Tony yelled, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed. The first few steps were excruciating, and the next few were pure torture, but Tony managed to get himself out of the bedroom and halfway down the hall before he mucked things ups. One crutch leg caught on the hall rug and Tony pitched forward with a sharp cry.

He tried to catch himself on his hands and that really only made matters worse. A few of his bruises were sure to be refreshed, and he thought he broke his nose. But worst of all, his poor, broken leg was twisted kind of funny, and Tony felt several of his stitches rip. And soon his clothes and parts of the floor were wet with warm, fresh blood. For once his A.I butler was silent and unresponsive, teaching him his lesson he supposed, so Tony decided not to move and to simply wait for Steve to return home.


	10. One Drink Won't Kill You

"Tony!" Steve yelped, finding his friend bleeding quietly on a rug in the hallway. "What happened?!" The blonde dropped to his knees beside Tony and shook the smaller man's shoulder.

"Pe-Pepper…" Tony breathed tiredly, attempting to explain. "She dumped me."

"Tony…" Steve sighed sympathetically, running a hand through his hair. "How long have you been here?"

"Couple hours?" Tony slurred.

"Alright, let's get you back in bed. Then I'll call Bruce. I think you burst some stitches." Steve said, hands flitting over Tony worriedly.

"No shit." Tony groaned as Steve rolled him over and picked him up. "Owowowow." He chanted, grinding his teeth in pain.

"I'm sorry, Tony." Steve said, feeling horrible. Tony bit back bitter tears. He had managed to fight them for so long. But here Steve was, and he was warm and comfortable and caring and Tony was having a hard time not crying. Curse the super soldier for being such a damn good person. Tony looked up at his friend, eyes watering just a little bit.

"Gosh, I'm sorry, Tony; I really am hurting you, aren't I?" Steve fretted, turning into Tony's room, careful not to let the injured man's feet brush against the door frame. Tony bit his lip and held in his tears. God, he needed alcohol.

"Tony, I'm going to clean you up and bandage you before I call Bruce, OK?" Steve gently laid Tony down on his bed, cupping his head carefully as he placed it on the pillows. Tony gritted his teeth and nodded.

Tony seriously considered making a snarky remark as Steve pulled his shirt off, but decided to just be nice. For now. Steve tried very hard not to hurt Tony as he washed the blood away.

"Tony Stark you better not get another infection! I'm pretty sure another fever will melt your brain." Steve teased, _trying_ to lighten the mood a little bit. "Why were you up anyway? I mean, you told me that Pepper broke up with you, and I'm sorry to hear that, really, I am, but why were you up?"

"I…was…" _Might as well tell the truth._ "J.A.R.V.I.S wouldn't get me a drink." Tony winced as the blonde wrapped the bandages tightly, applying enough pressure to hopefully stop (or at least slow the bleeding). The genius was vaguely surprised at the empty, kind of lonely feeling he got when Steve left him to call Bruce. He figured he must be bored, so he counted the bumps on the ceiling and tried to listen in on the phone conversation he could just barely hear.

"Alright Tony, don't you dare tell Bruce about this." Steve said assertively upon his return, pressing a glass of amber liquid into Tony's hand.

"Did you just give me alcohol?" Tony asked in disbelief.

"One drink won't kill you." Steve said with a devilish smile that made Tony's heart flip-flop in his chest. The blonde disappeared after Tony finished his drink, likely hiding the evidence before the good doctor showed up and chewed both their asses out. Tony sighed and settled back into his pillows, waiting for Bruce.

Tony gritted his teeth and tried hard not to whimper as Bruce began his work. Since Tony had only burst a few of his stitches, the doctor had to remove the rest of them. And since they had been torn in such a haphazard manner, it was no easy task. As Tony bit back another pathetic sound, a warm hand found his and gave a comforting squeeze. Steve. Tony squeezed back as the pain washed over him, strong despite the meds he'd been given. If it had been anyone but Steve, Tony would have worried about breaking their hand with the strength of his grip, but he knew he wouldn't hurt the larger man, so he squeezed as hard as he needed to in order to keep the pain at bay. If he hurt the soldier he could apologize later.

But Steve didn't complain. He clutched back, gently, smoothing Tony's hair back from his face and whispering comforting words, hoping he could ease his friend's pain, just a little bit. As much as he respected Pepper, she was a….well, she was something! Steve couldn't think of a word for it right now. He understood how stressful it must have been dating Tony Stark, but who in their right mind would dump a guy in this condition. That was cruel.

"Thank you, Dr. Banner." Steve said, walking Bruce to the door.

"Steve, I've told you over and over again, just call me Bruce." The doctor said.

"Thank you, _Bruce_." Steve corrected himself.

"Take care of him, Steve. I don't want to redo my stitches again." Bruce said over his shoulder.

"Good night Dr—Bruce." Steve caught himself. Bruce shot him a smile.

"Good night, Steve." Steve stayed in the doorway until Bruce was out of sight, before pushing himself off the doorframe with a sigh and heading back upstairs to Tony. The brunette was awake and watching Steve intently when the soldier returned.

"He must be kinda pissed at me." Tony said, a little bit of shame tainting his sarcastic tone.

"I didn't tell him what you were up to, Tony." Steve said, dragging a chair next to his bed.

"Why not?" Tony asked, truly surprised.

"Because you've had to deal with enough today." Steve answered with a sympathetic smile. "And, since I haven't said it, I'm really sorry about that, Tony. I can't believe Pepper would do something like that while you're like this. You had enough to deal with."

"Thanks, Capsicle." Tony gritted his teeth and shifted onto his side. "Now, shush, it's nap time." Steve smiled and got up to fetch Tony a blanket, and draped it carefully over him.

"Gonna tell me a story, too?" Tony teased.

"Only if you really want me to." Steve answered, sitting down next to Tony's bedside.

"Pfhhh, no thanks." Tony scoffed, letting his eyes slip closed and dropping of the face of the earth.


	11. Now It's Falling

While Tony slept, he dreamed. He dreamed of falling. He watched the Hellicarrier grow smaller and smaller in the distance, and felt the branches breaking and snapping beneath him as he fell through the trees. True, it was probably the branches that had saved him, but that didn't mean they hadn't hurt like a bitch on the way down. When he finally made contact with the ground, Tony woke up.

He shot up in bed making a strangled noise that was half out of fear and half out of the pain of sudden movement. He gasped and tried to steady himself. Tony felt pathetic as he watched his hands shake. Up until now Steve hadn't seen this side of Tony, a fact for which Tony was grateful. But tonight Steve had been too worried to leave.

"You should have told me you were having nightmares." A soft voice sounded from the side of Tony's bed. Steve's large, warm hand made contact with Tony's chest, pressing the smaller man back down on the bed. Once Tony was settled the hand moved to rub gently up and down the brunette's side, mindful of all the sore spots.

"I'm fine." Tony insisted once Steve had successfully pulled him out of his head. Blue eyes stared down at him, soft and concerned and disbelieving. "I really am. Fine, you know…" Steve obviously still didn't believe him.

"How can I help, Tony?" Steve asked.

"You could bring me a bottle of vodka." Tony suggested, earning himself a disapproving (if not ever-so-slightly amused) glare from the super soldier.

"Tony." Steve said warningly. "I'm being serious. I want to help."

"Cap, I really don't think there's much you can do, this time." Tony sighed as a heavy weight seemed to draw his eyelids closed again. As he drifted off, the genius felt the bed shift next to him and blinked on weary eye open to watch Steve crawl carefully into bed with him.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked lightly, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his lips.

"Something I kind of wish somebody would do for me when I have nightmares." Steve said quietly, sheepishly. A rosy blush tinted the captain's cheeks and he found himself unable to look Tony in the eye.

"You have nightmares?" Was what Tony decided to take away from the admission.

"Yeah."

"What about?" The brunette was genuinely curious now. "What does captain America have nightmares about?"

"Um, you know, sometimes it's just the usual PTSD thing. Kind of like replaying the events back to myself while I sleep. Sometimes I dream of Bucky, falling off a train. And I play that scene over and over again and when I wake up I just kill myself for never catching him, because I'm a super soldier, I should have been able to save him." Steve said, settling in next to Tony, placing one cautious arm around the other man's shoulders. "And one time I dreamed that I had caught him. In a way, waking up was worse that time around."

"I also have nightmares about the ice. What it felt like. To die. It was awful Tony. Most people think I just went to sleep, but I didn't. I half drowned and half got severe hypothermia first. I never knew the cold could burn like that. And Peggy's voice. I hear her, how broken she sounds. I hate that. It might be the worse part, just knowing how much I hurt her." Steve continued.

"But the worst dream, well, it's different. I dream that I go to sleep one night, and I just don't wake up again. I can hear the world around me, and feel it changing, but I'm still asleep. And another seventy to a hundred years go by and I wake up. But there's no one there. No one to help me adjust, to show me what's changed. No body knows who I am. I'm lost and it's terrible." Steve sighed sadly and the breath of air ruffled the genius's hair. "What do you dream about."

"Used to be a cave. In Afghanistan." Tony said tiredly. "Now it's falling." Tony suddenly huffed out a low chuckle.


	12. Why Am I On The Floor?

Their life fell into an easy pattern. During the day, if Steve was around, Tony helped him to explore the more detailed aspects of the twenty-first century. Eventually he had the super soldier using every aspect of his Stark phone and his laptop like a pro. If Steve was in meetings or off saving the world, Tony would spend the day designing new pieces of tech on his tablet. And once he even designed a rather detailed new zombie game out of boredom. He and Steve played once the other man got home, and it took half an hour before Steve figured out the controls, but once he did he turned out to be a real badass when it came to killing zombies.

They spent every evening together, most often catching Steve up on what he'd missed pop-culture wise. Steve almost always cooked, and it surprised Tony that he could be so good at it. He could make a variety of pastas and meat dishes, and his deserts were fantastic. Steve explained that when he was younger, and smaller, and life wasn't going his way, he would tell his mother his troubles as he helped her in the kitchen. He'd picked the habit back up once he found himself in the future with a lot of time on his hands. One accidental fire and two exploded microwaves later, he'd gotten good at it. And he enjoyed it, loved creating in a new way and having his hands busy. Tony had to admit he loved it too. The food was good. Not high-priced, fancy restaurant food good, but a different kind of good.

The blond soldier surprised Tony one day when he called and asked about a good place to pick up some food on the way home. That wasn't like Steve. But Tony said to just come home and that he would order dinner, and as soon as Steve walked in the door he understood. The super soldier looked _wrecked_. His eyes were half-lidded and drooping, the lines on his face were deep and he had bags and dark circles under his eyes. He had a cut on his lip and a slight limp.

"You look awful." Tony said, the smirk on his face softening as he patted the bed in invitation. Steve flopped down beside him, face first and let out a low groan. Tony placed a soft hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Hard day at work, dear?" He teased. And Steve chuckled dryly.

"I had to get in between Thor and Loki while they were fighting, and then I got hit by some type of giant robot thing. Fell off one of the docks too." Steve said.

"Explains why you smell like ocean." Tony wrinkled his nose.

"I took a shower!"

"I'm kidding." Tony said, just as the doorbell rang. Steve pushed himself up on the bed, groaning, and went to the door. He came back with enough Chinese food to feed an army.

"Was all this really necessary, Tony?" Steve asked, laying the multiple food items out over the bed and grabbing them a couple of drinks.

"You eat like a horse." Tony accused playfully as Steve rejoined him. Steve just glared at him for a moment, before asking Tony to explain to him what each of the dishes were. He tried a little bit of everything, eating, indeed, like a horse. Though maybe with a bit more manners. After they'd finished eating, and Steve, despite being clearly exhausted, insisted on cleaning up, Tony had J.A.R.V.I.S cue up a movie. _Gremlins_ this time, because _how_ had Steve never seen that movie?

About half-way through the movie, Tony looked over to where Steve was sitting up against the headboard. The soldier was asleep, head drooping, breath even, and leaning slightly to his left. Tony let out a low chuckle, and almost woke him up, but, remembering the day Steve'd had, he left him alone and turned his attention back to the movie. Just as the credits rolled, Tony was startled out of a half-conscious haze by a strange sliding sound, a loud thunk, and a sudden shift of weight on the bed. Looking over, the brunette couldn't help but burst into laughter. Steve had fallen to his left, most of him landing on the floor, and one foot still resting on the bed.

"What?" Steve slurred sleepily, slowly withdrawing his foot from the bed and sitting up to give Tony a questioning look.

"You fell asleep." Tony informed him.

"Why am I on the floor?"

"You fell over." Tony said.

"You didn't push me, did you?" Steve asked with a suspicious glare.

"No. I didn't." Tony answered, _Not that the thought hadn't crossed my mind._

"It wouldn't surprise me if you did." Steve said thoughtfully. "J.A.R.V.I.S, did Tony push me?"

"No, Captain Rogers." The AI responded dully.

"You thought about it, though, didn't you?" Steve moved himself back to the bed, stretching out his muscles in the process.

"Maybe." Tony said quickly.

"Well, I guess thanks for not pushing me. What time is it?" Steve glanced at the clock. "That late already? You need to take your medication, and then we both need to get to bed." Steve made sure Tony took his pills, and that he took _all_ of them. He had a bad habit of refusing to take some of them because they were large and he didn't like swallowing them. Tony complained loudly about Steve being a mother hen.

"Good night, Tony." Steve said firmly, taking the man's tablet away from him and tucking it under his arm. "I mean it, get some sleep." Tony looked at Steve mournfully but Steve ignored him and turned out the lights. As Steve padded down the hallway, he heard Tony asking J.A.R.V.I.S to turn on the lights, and the AI responding that "Captain Rogers was right, you do need rest." Steve could practically hear the other man pouting and couldn't resist the grin that made it's way across his face.

Bruce came over a couple of days after that, to remove Tony's stitches. Tony complained and squirmed to the point that Bruce felt the need to sedate the other man. He continued his work, grumbling about disobedient patients.

"Hey, Bruce, where's the rest of the team at?" Steve asked.

"Well, Thor is staying with his girlfriend Jane." Bruce said, finishing up and scrubbing his hands. "Clint is keeping an eye on one of S.H.E.L.D's more secretive facilities, and Natasha is somewhere in Russia, not surprisingly. Playing double agent, I think. Why do you ask?"

"I just figured at least one of them would have come to see Tony after we found him." Steve said with a sad sigh. Outside of Pepper (and look how well that had gone!) Tony'd had no real visitors aside from Bruce.

"I'm sure they would have if they could, but they've all been busy. Well, Thor did try to come visit, but somehow I get the feeling that his gifts of Asgardian medicine and mead, along with his over-enthusiastic presence here, wouldn't help matters at all. So he was told to just go visit with Jane for a while."

"Ah. I understand. I just hope he doesn't feel like they abandoned him or anything."

"I'm sure he doesn't" Bruce said. "So, I will make an appointment in two weeks for Tony to have his cast removed. Make sure Tony follows a proper exercise and work-out pattern after that, this book should help, and don't let him try walking for a while, OK?" Steve nodded and accepted the book. "Well, then, I'd better run, I have to meet with Fury." There was obvious distaste in the doctor's eyes.

"Alright, thanks for stopping by." Steve walked Bruce out before returning to Tony's side. The man was still out cold, and Steve just couldn't resist. Taking a note from Barton he fished around on the desk for a Sharpie.


	13. Mr. Stark Was My Father

"Why don't you just carry me again?" Tony asked irritably.

"Why should I?" Steve demanded.

"Because you like me?" Tony just received a glare. "Because these crutches are a lot of work and make my armpits hurt?"

"Alright, I'll tell you what, if you behave yourself while we're there, and don't harass the doctors while they're removing your cast, I'll carry you on the way back." Steve sighed.

"But I'll just be able to walk then." Tony said.

"No you won't. The muscles in your leg deteriorated a lot, you'll need some rehabilitation before you can walk again." Steve informed him.

"Seriously. I'd rather just face the pain and start walking."

"Yeah, no." Steve said firmly. "You're going to do this right. No 'ifs', 'ands', or 'buts'."

"Fine." Tony growled. The duo made their way down the halls of S.H.E.I.L.D's medical facility, Tony using the crutches a bit more easily than he wanted Steve to think. One of the nurses directed them to an examining room and Steve helped Tony up onto the table.

"Remember, Tony, you said you'd behave." Steve reminded him, fixing the other man with one of his 'authoritative looks'.

"I know, I know." Just as Tony sighed this, there was a sharp knock at the door and one of the male doctors stepped inside. They knew better than to assign Tony Stark a female doctor.

"Mr. Stark, how are you?" The doctor smiled widely.

"Mr. Stark was my father." Tony said coldly. The doctor glanced down at his clipboard.

"Anthony, then." He amended.

" _Tony_."

"OK, then, _Tony_ , looks like that cast is ready to come off." The doctor wasted no time in explaining how this was going to work, and holding up a saw-like instrument for his patient to examine. Steve could tell Tony was ready to flee the room. Though how he would do that with his crutches out of reach, Steve had no idea.

"Behave." Steve said as Tony almost managed to kick the doctor away. The genius reaching out for the tool and trying to convince the doctor that he could do this himself.

" _Alright, fine_. But we're having burgers for dinner tonight. From that place right down the street, you know the one." Tony bargained. "And cheesecake. With blueberries on top!"

"That's fine, Tony, just let the doctor do his job." Steve sat back and watched as the cast was cut from Tony's leg. As soon as it was removed Tony bent over and started scratching at his leg.

"Ahhh..." He sighed blissfully, "That spot's been itching for a while." Tony curled his toes and stretched out slightly, wincing.

"Don't push it." Steve said as the doctor took his leave, happy to be away from Tony. "You know, I think you annoy the medical staff."

"And they annoy me. Even trade." Tony said, stretching out his leg some more with a pained grunt.

"Don't do that if it hurts too much, Tony." Steve reprimanded.

"Can we get out of here yet, it smells like anesthetics, cleaning products and sick people."

"Yes. We can go." Steve sighed and stuck his head out the door to ask one of the nurses if she would kindly take Tony's crutches out to their car. With a delighted grin and a soft flush on her cheeks she immediately went to do just that. When Steve turned back to Tony, the smaller man had his arms held out to Steve and was grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Steve decided he didn't want to know what Tony was thinking.

For probably about the millionth time since this had all started, Steve scooped Tony up into his arms and let the man settle in. It should have bothered him, Steve figured, carrying Tony around like this so often. But he was light and no one really noticed anymore, so he couldn't bring himself to care. Tony yawned and tucked his face into the crook of Steve's neck as they exited the building, shielding his eyes from the bright midday lights.

"I told you to get some sleep last night." Steve said.

"I got sleep." Tony yawned again.

"A couple hours doesn't count, Tony, you need to go to bed before 4 AM."

"It's not my fault you weren't home to tuck me in." Tony teased.

"I was on a mission." Steve said dryly.

"How did that go, by the way?" Asked Tony, removing his arms from around Steve's neck as the super soldier set him down in the car.

"Oh, fine. Nothing really urgent, just busy work." Steve answered, sliding in next to Tony.

"Then you should have been home, reinforcing bed times." Tony informed him. "Happy, back to the tower, but first stop at that burger place, and that place that has cheesecake. You know what I'm talking about right?"

"Yeah, I do." Happy answered, shutting the door behind Steve and moving to start the car and get them on their way.


	14. Sleep Well

Tony had little to no table manners most of the time. But, apparently, when he was stuffing his face with burgers and cheesecake his lack of manners got even worse. He kept going on and on about some piece of tech he was designing for the tower, and upgrades for J.A.R.V.I.S, whilst also taking bites way too big for his mouth and talking around them. Steve figured he should have been appalled by Tony's behavior, but he was too busy being amused.

"Tony, do you understand the concept of table manners?" Steve asked with a grin.

"Nope." Tony said, echoing Steve's smile.

"Didn't think so." Steve chuckled. "So, what movie are we watching tonight?"

"We could watch the _Saw_ movies." Tony suggested.

"Natasha said you'd suggest those at some point. She also said you would only be suggesting them because you know I wouldn't like them and that things would be better all around if I just said no."

"Stupid assassin. Y'know it's wierd how you to are bros and all that, I mean, I didn't think Natasha could have any friends. I assumed she only had enemies and targets." Tony said, racking his brain for another movie they could watch. "Hey! Have I made you watch _Jurassic Park_ yet?"

"No, I don't think so." Steve answered, clearing their dinner mess from the bed.

"J.A.R.V.I.S! Dim the lights and start the movie!" Tony demanded, shifting around and settling down amongst the pillows. "Hey Steve, have you seen my fuzzy blanket-oh, thanks." Steve dropped Tony's favorite deep blue, really fuzzy blanket on his chest.

"I washed it." Steve told him, taking up residence on the other side of the bed.

"You _washed_ it?!"

"It was starting to smell." Steve explained.

"Smell?" Tony sniffed the blanket curiously, only able to pick up some sort of laundry soap and fabric softener. "Like what?"

"I'm really not sure I even want to know." Steve said dryly. "But it was either _I_ wash it or _you_ forfeit using it during movie nights." Tony just grumbled in response and turned his attention to the TV screen.

"Y'know." Tony said, just as the first dinosaur appeared. "I expected Bruce to like this movie, but mostly he just complained about the lack of scientific realisticness."

"So, it's not possible then?" Steve asked.

"No, why would you think it was?" Tony shifted his gaze to Steve and the super soldier gestured to himself. "Oh. Well, that kind of makes sense. No, as far as I know, and Bruce knows, it isn't possible."

"Oh. Well, OK." Steve settled back into the movie. He jumped a little bit when a pillow was dropped unceremoniously into his lap, a mop of black hair following directly after. Tony looked up at him, almost daring him to say something. Steve stayed silent, shifting to get more comfortable and resting one hand on Tony's shoulder without even having to think about it.

It was only moments later when Steve realized Tony had fallen asleep. His face had gone lax and his breathing was deepened, one hand curled beneath his head. Steve couldn't resist ruffling his hair a bit, resting his hand there throughout the rest of the movie.

After the credits had rolled, Steve reluctantly began to shift Tony to the side so he could escape and go to bed himself. J.A.R.V.I.S flicked off the television in the background. Just as Steve had finally managed to nudge Tony back onto the bed properly, head on the pillows and his feet no longer hanging off the edge, the sleeping engineer threw an arm around Steve's waist, fingers digging into his shirt. With an amused smile the soldier pushed at the older man's shoulders. Tony's only response was to whine and move closer, clinging more tightly. After a few more unsuccessful nudges Steve was practically wearing a Tony blanket and realized he would simply have to accept his fate.

"J.A.R.V.I.S," Steve sighed. "lights please."

"Of course, Captain." The AI said. "Sleep well." If Steve didn't know any better he'd say the computer program sounded amused and slightly smug. Steve paid him no mind and let himself drift off to sleep.

Tony was awakened a few hours later to the sound of soft cries and the feeling of somebody thrashing beside him. Looking over he was surprised to see Steve still in his bed, and briefly wondered why. But those thoughts were deemed unimportant as he watched the soldier twist and turn against the powers of his nightmare. He kept whining low in his throat and his face was scrunched up in pain.

"Steve. Wake up." Tony called. Steve whined louder and the brunette found himself dodging a flying arm.

"Steve! You need to wake up." Tony yelled, louder this time, more insistent. He reached out and shook Steve's shoulder, but the sleeping man refused to wake.

"STEVE! Damn it!"

"Nn-no!" Steve groaned, his breathing growing harsh and his chest heaving.

"C'mon, Steve, please wake up." Tony really wasn't sure what to do, but the pained look on the blonde's face was killing him a little.

"No! Don't..." Steve called, and Tony began to pay more attention to what he was saying. "Don't. T-t-tony...c-cold...don't wanna...alone..."

"No, no, no, no, no, Steve." Tony murmured, moving closer and draping an arm over the soldier. "You're not alone. I'm right here, you're not alone."

"Mmmmmm." Steve twisted, turning more towards Tony.

"That's right, I'm here." Tony encouraged, tightening his grip on Steve's waist and sliding his other arm around his neck, tugging him closer and tucking the soldier's face into his neck. Steve threw one large arm around Tony and gripped him tightly.

"You're not alone." Tony promised again. He carded his hands through Steve's hair. Steve began to calm down, and Tony continued to stroke his hair and murmur to him until the soldier was relaxed against him, drifting easily into more pleasant dreams.


	15. Had To Try It Once

Tony had been far less difficult about the whole recovery process than Steve had expected. He had expected Tony to put up a fight about everything, or try to rush through the process and hurt himself. Instead Tony had become determined.

For the first week Tony would spend hours in bed doing stretching exercises outlined by the book Bruce had given Steve. On day two Steve had brought him home some elastic bands to work with. Though he was being more patient about all this than expected, Tony had a tendency to push his limits just a little bit and give himself some nasty leg cramps. Steve often found himself sitting at the foot of the billionaires bed kneading the cramps out of Tony's legs and wondering why he was willing to do so much for the other man.

In the weeks following Tony began to try to take weight on his leg again. Steve was constantly hovering in the background, watching and making sure Tony didn't take things too far. It took a while for him to be able to comfortably stand on both legs, but once he could Tony immediatly started pushing things. He shifted his weight from side to side and then, rather suddenly and with nothing else to balance him, he lifted his good leg off the ground. He let out a startled yelp as his bad leg gave out too and he was sent rushing downwards.

"Tony!" Steve was across the room fast enough to catch Tony before he hit the ground. Tony risked a glance up at Steve, only to find the soldier giving him a disapproving glare. "That wasn't your brightest move."

"Yeah, well, I had to try it once." Tony insisted.

"And you're not going to try it again." Steve said.

"That's what you think." Tony muttered. Steve heard him and glared harder until Tony relented. "Fine, fine. I won't try that again, are you happy?!"

"Mostly. Let's go watch a movie." That had been the end of therapy for the day.

It had been three weeks since then, and Tony was doing really well. Steve was leaning against a doorframe watching Tony swim. He'd been spending more and more time in the pool, finding it was helping him regain muscle more quickly. Most days he'd stay in until his skin was wrinkled almost beyond recognition and he greatly respempled a very pale raison.

"Hey, hey, Steve!" Tony called from the pool, throwing a beachball at the supersoldier. Steve really wasn't sure how he couldn't dodge such a large, colorful missile, but it hit him in the nose and he gave Tony a playful glare.

"What?" He threw the ball back when Tony had his back turned, looking for something else to throw. It hit the back of Tony's head solidly and Steve grinned smugly. Tony chuckled.

"You should join me!" Tony yelled, throwing the beachball again. This time Steve dodged it as he made his way to the poolside.

"Why?"

"Because I'm bored." Tony said, swimming over to where Steve was standing.

"And what would my joining you do about that?" Steve crouched down to give Tony a quizzical look, and really, that was where he went wrong. Because the next thing he knew there was a hand on his shirt, and then he was in the pool and Tony was laughing. Steve came up sputtering indignantly and intended to glare coldly at his poolmate, but Tony was _really_ lauging. And the sight was enough to spread a smile over Steve's own face.

"Ass." He accused with a splash in Tony's direction.

"Hey! You got too close, you have no one to blame but yourself!" Tony called back.

"I'm going to go get changed." Steve sighed, pulling himself out of the pool.

"No, don't leave me here!" Tony whined.

"You should get changed too, Tony. I'm starting dinner as soon as I'm dry." Steve said, making his way upstairs.

Steve showered quickly and made his way down to the kitchen, collecting the ingredients he would need for dinner and getting right to work. About twenty minutes later, Tony limped his way into the kitchen, leaning heavily on his colorful "pimp" cane (because if Tony Stark had to get a cane, it was going to be a pimp cane.).

"What're we having for dinner, cap?" He asked, grabbing a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. Really, it had come as no surprise to learn that Tony really liked a good bottle of wine with dinner.

"Pasta." Steve answered, grabbing some herbs from the cabinet beside the stove. Tony used his arms to push himself up onto the counter next to the stove and poured himself a glass of wine. He sipped it and watched Steve work, crushing herbs, adding meat, stirring in mushrooms and adjusting the flavor of the sauce until he was satisfied. And then he turned the heat down to let it simmer. Tony motioned Steve over to him and handed him a glass of wine.

Steve sipped it a little before setting it back on the counter, wine really wasn't his speed. Tony's glass joined his, and there were hands on Steve's shirt again and he was being tugged forward. Steve landed between Tony's knees, hands grabbing at the counter on either side of Tony's hips to steady himself. He gave Tony a startled look, meeting the billionaire's eyes and shocked to find some sort of warm determination in them, wondering suspiciously what Tony could be up to. And then Tony's face was a lot closer, the proximity stealing Steve's breath, Tony's nose brushed against his and his breath ghosted over Steve's cheek. Steve let his eyes drift shut lazily.


	16. Not Even Surprised

Tony's rough, calloused hands came up to cup Steve's face, thumbs tracing along his cheek bones. Steve's eyes remained closed, his heart racing in his chest, all the air stolen out of his lungs as he waited in anticipation. Tony's fingers moved to stroke along the outline of Steve's bottom lip before finally closing the half-an-inch between their mouths.

Steve let out a sigh as their lips met. Tony's lips were shockingly soft and warm against his, and he kept it innocent for a few brief moments. Then, gripping Steve's hair, Tony turned up the heat. He tilted Steve's head to the side so their mouths could press together at just the right angle, their lips parting for a single beat and then Tony went back into the kiss with a vengeance. Steve whined when Tony nibbled on his lips, grabbing on with his teeth and giving a gentle tug, relenting once Steve's mouth fell open and Tony could slip his tongue inside.

Steve tasted like the herbs he was using, and tomatoes with just the slightest hint of the wine, the mixed flavors heady and delicious. Tony ran his tongue along Steve's teeth, the roof of his mouth and practically down his throat and Steve positively melted, groaning low in his chest. Steve grasped Tony's hips with a moan as their lips parted and Tony moved to his neck. Steve, with a pleasant haze clouding his mind, threw his head back to allow Tony full access. Tony pressed butterfly kisses along Steve's neck, nipping occasionally, until his mouth pressed against a spot that sent a full-body shiver down Steve's spine. Steve felt Tony's lips curl upwards against his neck and then Tony was biting down, hard.

"Ah!" Steve gasped, eyelashes fluttering and hips bucking just a bit. Tony laved his tongue over the bite before wrapping his mouth around it and sucking it into a perfectly purple mark. Then he moved up to nip Steve's earlobe.

"Never thought you'd be so wonderfully _responsive_ , Cap." Tony hissed flirtily, the words tickling Steve's ear. "I like it." He bit down again on his mark, more gently this time and Steve groaned softly.

"OH, GOD MY EYES!" Came the hoarse cry. Both Tony and Steve's heads snapped up and the caught sight of Clint dashing through the kitchen and up the stairs, arms thrown over his eyes. Following at his heels, though at a more reasonable pace came Natasha. Steve tucked his head closer to his chin and blushed brightly at her gaze.

"Not even surprised." Natasha said evenly, sending Tony a glare that announced "shovel talk later" and smiling encouragingly at Steve, finally following Clint up the stairs and leaving the two men to each other. Steve looked back down at Tony and his blush grew darker as Tony smirked at him, nipping ever-so-lightly at his neck again.

"Weren't you cooking something, dear?" Tony asked with a mischievous grin.

"Oh!" Steve whirled back around to the stove, happy to see that nothing had been ruined, and went back to cooking. Tony chuckled in amusement, kicking back with his wine and happily enjoying the view.


End file.
